hen he described the ant as 'gathering her food in the harvest' and
'preparing her meat in the summer,' he was speaking rather as a poet
than as a strict naturalist. Later observations, however, have
vindicated the general accuracy of the much-married king by showing that
true harvesting ants do actually occur in Syria, and that they lay by
stores for the winter in the very way stated by that early entomologist,
whose knowledge of 'creeping things' is specially enumerated in the long
list of his universal accomplishments.

Dr. Lincecum of Texan fame has even improved upon Solomon by his
discovery of those still more interesting and curious creatures, the
agricultural ants of Texas. America is essentially a farming country,
and the agricultural ants are born farmers. They make regular clearings
around their nests, and on these clearings they allow nothing to grow
except a particular kind of grain, known as ant-rice. Dr. Lincecum
maintains that the tiny farmers actually sow and cultivate the ant-rice.
Dr. McCook, on the other hand, is of opinion that the rice sows itself,
and that the insects' part is limited to preventing any other plants or
weeds from encroaching on the appropriated area. In any case, be they
squatters or planters, it is certain that the rice, when ripe, is duly
harvested, and that it is, to say the least, encouraged by the ants, to
the exclusion of all other competitors. 'After the maturing and
harvesting of the seed,' says Dr. Lincecum, 'the dry stubble is cut away
and removed from the pavement, which is thus left fallow until the
ensuing autumn, when the same species of grass, and in the same circle,
appears again, and receives the same agricultural care as did the
previous crop.' Sir John Lubbock, indeed, goes so far as to say that the
three stages of human progress--the hunter, the herdsman, and the
agriculturist--are all to be found among various species of existing
ants.

The Saueba ants of tropical America carry their agricultural operations a
step further. Dwelling in underground nests, they sally forth upon the
trees, and cut out of the leaves large round pieces, about as big as a
shilling. These pieces they drop upon the ground, where another
detachment is in waiting to convey them to the galleries of the nest.
There they store enormous quantities of these round pieces, which they
allow to decay in the dark, so as to form a sort of miniature mushroom
bed. On the mouldering vegetable heap the